The Not-So Endgame
by shnuffeluv
Summary: Sequel to "I'm the Kidlock" Sherlock and John are back to normal, and Moriarty knows it. So what else would he do but cook up a new and improved plan to get to them? And what better way to do that then to go through Mycroft? READ THE FIRST ONE BEFORE SO THIS MAKES MORE SENSE!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So...SEQUEL! ...That did not look like a word. So! Guuyyyysss...It's here! I dropped my other fic since it turned out to be a dud, and worked on this for a little bit, and I've got some things going on in the story, a few plan-aheads, and a lot of CUTENESS! This is going to focus on Mycroft/Jim & Sebastian for a few, then hopefully enter Sherlock and John, who call upon the Doctor and/or his companions for backup! Hehehe...I can't wait!**

**Allons-y and geronimo!**

Mycroft drummed his fingers nervously on his office desk, staring at the pile of papers that stared back at him, searing their contents onto the inside of his eyelids. 13 people working nearby his office had been attacked. All of them were either beaten or shot, and if you separated the beatings from the shootings and sorted them chronologically, they made for a chilling message. He checked the list over again:

Mira Argle

Yancy Letterman

Chris McGuire

Rhonda Sweets

Ollie Stans

Frank Otto

Tris Prior

.

Holly Masser

Olivia Staples

Leo Lyon

Matt Tee

Emily Johnson

Stephen Altru

M-Y-C-R-O-F-T H-O-L-M-E-S. Someone was threatening him. It wasn't uncommon, of course, but this kind of work was different from the normal revenge-getter. The man never appeared on security cameras, and the victims always said the attacker either struck from behind or shot them out of sight. And the overall delivery of the threat made everything that much more serious. It had been a month since the attacks started, a month and a half since Sherlock had returned to normal, and Mycroft was mulling over the thought that this person could want information on that, but if that was the case, why go after him and not Sherlock? It just didn't make any sense!

"Sir?"

Mycroft jumped, then slumped into leaning on his desk in relief. "Jane, please refrain from sneaking up on me in the future."

"All right, sir. I just wanted to recommend you take a break. You've been rather tense since Friday." She smiled at what she said next. "Just because I'm an intern does not mean I am an idiot too, sir."

"You have a point as always, Jane."

She smiled. He sighed. "And you always have a recommendation to go with it. Where is it this time?"

"The back, where they were going to renovate but never got around to filing the paperwork. There's hardly anyone back there, and if there is anyone, they are either doing something just as frowned upon or is looking for the same sliver of silence you are."

"Or both," Mycroft said with a wan smile, "Thank you, Jane."

She nodded, then frowned. "Just be careful, sir. I figured out they're trying to get your attention with those attacks before most others did."

Mycroft stood up and smiled. "Good thing I'm not 'most others' then." He walked out, leaving his umbrella hanging on the corner of his desk.

Lots of significance would later be put on this fact.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, I was writing this and it wound up...long. Yeah, that's it. Long. And weird. But mostly long.**

**Reviews are nice, but I understand if you don't want to right away, I guess. Just for future note.**

Mycroft walked into the back and sighed. This was a good silence. Not the forced, sterile silence that was in the rest of the building. This was a companionable silence that let you daydream or doze off in the confidence that you are alone. The more he walked back there, the more relaxed he became. He let himself forget some of the things that had bothered him for ages. He dropped off job and political worries at the 10th turn. After 15 minutes, he let go of surveillance duties and social problems, and after a long while, he even forgot he was being targeted by some unknown entity. Which turned out to be his big mistake.

He rounded a turn without checking or slowing down first, and soon after he felt a _prick_ in the side of his neck. He pulled out a dart that was alarmingly the approximate size and shape of a tranquilizer. Wrapped around it was a little piece of paper, folded and curled around the body of the dart. It said on it:

_Dear Mr. Holmes,_

_ We sincerely regret to inform you your position has been changed from that of a government official to kidnapped prisoner. If you are reading this, then the formula we have created to ease the transition has already begun to enter your bloodstream. As this is the first time we have injected to solution straight into the bloodstream, the effects will be somewhat unknown. Apologies for any inconvenience._

_-A Certain Concerned Third Party_

Mycroft had to squint to read the last bit. His eyes were having problems focusing. He slid down one of the walls to sit and try to stop the room from pitching to one side. He felt so tired, even keeping his eyes open seemed like a noteworthy feat. He never even got to realize who this third-party was before he fell fast asleep, and a certain sniper smiled at the transformation he saw.

* * *

He wasn't sure if he had woken up yet, or if he was still dreaming, when Mycroft looked down to find his own unconscious body lying on the ground. "So I guess a bit of both then, depending on how you look at it." He crouched down and took a look at himself. "Weird isn't it?" A small voice said from behind him. He stood up and whirled around so he could see the intruder clearly. The person in question appeared to be a clone of himself as a toddler. "But, I suppose any out-of-body experience would be." The boy held out his hand. "Mycroft Holmes."

Mycroft just stared at the boy, not entirely sure what to make of him. The boy let his hand drop and sighed. "Geez, full on out-of-body experiences sure make the victims speechless. C'mon, Myc. Snap out of it."

"Don't. Call me Myc." Mycroft said out of habit. The boy smiled evilly. "Why, don't you like it?"

"I did when I was a kid. I'm not anymore. You shouldn't be here, anyway, with our time stream being where it is."

"So you admit we're the same person?"

"Yes and no. You're a 'me' found earlier in my time stream than me right now, also known as…"

"Yeah, yeah, when I want a lecture I'll ask for one, m'kay?" The young Mycroft waved his hand in dismissal. "Soon I'll be the only 'me' left, and boy," He grinned, "Have I been waiting ages to get behind the wheel again." And with that last ominous comment, he disappeared.

Mycroft felt a tug that signaled he'd have to return to his body soon. Based on what he had just seen, it appeared that there was only one answer he knew of: the de-aging formula. He figured he might as well get the inevitable out of the way, then, and let whoever found him help him out. But when he turned back to go, he was surprised to find that the formula had already taken affect. _Odd,_ he thought,_ was all of this just a distraction while the change took place?_ He slipped back into his mind, specifically his own version of a mind palace, to find it disturbingly deserted. Everything had been reduced to a jumbled mess. He sighed, and went to work on rebuilding the basic things he figured he would need. Which wound up being essentially his senses and a basic processor. From there, he couldn't make anything out of the mess. He looked at what he had managed to scrounge up, and went to work starting it up. It was really about the level of a toddler, which was really disturbing, considering all that had happened. But he chose not to think about that, and instead try and get back to consciousness.

If only he saw how it looked like he lost a few years off his age with that thought.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Wow, really long chapter! Jim is so mean in this one. But, what're you gonna do? He is the world's only consulting criminal, after all.**

**SH Ships Sherlock- Yay! I know I can count on your reviews making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I'm still trying to think out Mycroft's personality as well, I like to think he hasn't changed much since he was a kid, but has just gotten better at masking it.**

**Weirdness and meanness in this chapter, fluff in another 2 or 3 hopefully!**

When the bundle on the floor appeared to stop shrinking, Sebastian allowed himself a small smile, then went to work. He quickly gathered up all but Mycroft's shirt and stashed them in a crook in the wall, where no one would look to find them.

Then he carefully picked up the bundle hidden inside the shirt so as not to alert whatever was left of Mycroft Holmes inside that they were moving. He carried the bundle out the back entrance, to where a car was idling outside. He slid in the back seat and slammed the door. The bundle stirred, then settled back down to sleep some more. Jim signaled the go-ahead for the driver to shift into drive and head out, and then leaned across the middle seat to take a look at the treasure they had captured. He pulled back the shirt, unbuttoning when it was necessary, until they could clearly see what they had: a little ginger boy, no more than two, more likely 1½, sleeping in the remnants of his former self's shirt.

"A toddler," Jim breathed.

"Looks like it."

"Directly into the bloodstream definitely works stronger."

"Have you got the stuff?"

"Under the middle seat."

Sebastian reached under with one arm and pulled out a duffel bag. He sifted through it, saying as he did, "Wow, you thought of everything, didn't you?"

"It was that or risking people noticing a kid with clothes way too big or way too little and raising suspicion. Help me dress him, will you?"

Sebastian went to work dressing Mycroft, Jim trying to make sure everything wasn't going on backwards or wrong in a different way, and it was in this way that they managed to put on a diaper, socks, and a pair of pants. But by the time they tried to put the shirt on, Mycroft was thoroughly awake and squirming so much, they could hardly get near him before he'd bat their arms away. Jim pinned Mycroft's arms to his sides, saying dangerously low, "Now you listen here, Mycroft, and listen _well._ Either you let us put this shirt on you, or we force it on you. And you don't want us to force it on you, do you?"

He waited a moment to let his words sink in, then a light flipped on behind the toddler's eyes and he shook his head. Jim let go, and Moran slipped on the shirt easily before the poor kid even had a chance to cry out, just as the driver slowed to a stop. Jim offered to carry Mycroft, while Moran stuffed Mycroft's old shirt into the duffel bag and carried it out up to the old building they were in front of.

They walked into one of Jim's many safe houses a moment later. Mycroft was clinging onto one of Jim's shirt sleeves and hating himself for it, Jim waltzed in like he owned the world, and Moran entered last, checking behind them to see if they had been followed. Jim put Mycroft down on the floor, hoping he would do something besides just sitting and squirming. He just looked around and didn't do anything. Jim tried to brush off the irritation and left to see if there was anything he could give to the kid to keep him from getting in the way until they could use him. A half-hour and an unsuccessful search later, he came back to see if anything had happened in his absence. The only thing he saw was that Mycroft had sat down and started to fiddle with a piece of striped blue fabric that looked like it could be from wool socks, or possibly a scarf. Jim walked up to him so it would be impossible for Mycroft too miss him and the frown on his face.

"Mycroft," he did a sing-song voice as he said it, "You haven't moved since we arrived. Don't you want to see where we are?"

The boy just blinked, then opened his mouth, and closed it again, as if he was trying to remember how to talk. A scowl of concentration crossed his face, then he said with as much clarity a toddler can muster, "No."

"Are you sure? It could be important."

He clutched his piece of scarf and shook his head. "Nuh-uh. No!"

Jim snarled and bent down. "I don't like being told 'no,' Mycroft. A lesson you would do well to learn."

Mycroft scowled just as hard and crossed his arms. "No."

*smack* Mycroft reeled backward, loosening his grip on the piece of fabric, Jim ripping it from Mycroft's hand and examining it. It did indeed seem to be part of a scarf. _Sherlock's_ scarf. Mycroft realized that Jim knew and started to scream. Sebastian ran into the room, yelling as he did, "Jim! What's going on?!"

"That thing won't shut up since I took this," he waved the piece of frayed fabric, "And it won't listen to me!"

"_He's_ a kid! What'd you expect?" Sebastian took the piece of fabric and placed it back in Mycroft's hands, curling his fingers around it as he picked him up off the floor, shushing him. Mycroft quieted almost instantly. "For a genius Jim can be kind of stupid, can't he? But don't worry. I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you or take things from you again, hm? You're fine. Just relax."

"Ba-ba Jum…" Mycroft mumbled, then he fell asleep.

Jim stared between the toddler and the man holding him, not sure who was more unbelievable. "How did you do that?" he whispered.

"The same way I would quiet down babies who would give my position away way back when in Afghanistan," he replied evenly.

"Anything else I should know?"

"He can't speak yet. At least, not at a consistently understandable level."

"What?!"

"Shh!"

"What," he asked quieter.

"You heard him mumbling, right? Would you qualify that as English?"

"…If I did, would that mean we could all automatically understand him…?"

"Jim."

"All right, all right. Take him to the room we readied for him since it's getting late anyway. We can try to plan our next move before he wakes up tomorrow morning."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Short chapter after a long one? Does this mean someone is trying to balance out my writing? Hope not, because otherwise I might be writing some really dull stories.**

**...Or maybe just a lot of fillers like this one.**

**fezwearingjellybananas- Your review put me in a laughing mood, which is good because it seems like sometimes I don't laugh enough. Thank you for thinking my stories are amazing, I rarely have that much confidence, and when I do it seems no one else shares that sentiment, I'm glad you guys don't doubt me!**

**SH Ships Sherlock- Yay! More reviews to keep my smile lasting! The action is only just beginning, so hold on tight, because it just gets crazier from here! (And by here I mean after this chapter, this one isn't much of an action piece.)**

Mycroft woke up in a different room than the one he last remembered being in. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out where he was. A little focus and he realized he must be in a crib. A little more focus and he could see the rest of the room: a table and some chairs, and then different odds and ends that were most likely made for his distraction. He looked over another side of the crib, which held a dresser and a baby monitor. Well, at least he knew now how to get someone's attention. He let out a quick screech, and was rewarded by a door opening and someone walking in. "Geez, you don't have to do that, you know. I heard you mumbling in your sleep all night." Sebastian scolded. "But at least you're up. Come on, I'll get you breakfast." He pulled Mycroft out of the crib. "We can change your clothes after since this might make a mess."

Mycroft laughed at the thought of making a mess on purpose just to drive Jim up the wall in revenge. Sebastian gave him a look and exclaimed, "Now don't go making a mess on purpose; Jim will kill one or both of us."

"How kara no tu? No tuuu?"

Sebastian looked at him curiously, "That really is English in your head, isn't it?" Mycroft nodded. "Well, I'm just going to assume you were asking 'How do you know? Do you know?' Just because that's what I would ask. But believe me, when you know Jim as long as I have, you just _know_ what you can and can't get away with."

"Maka paka." Mycroft babbled.

"Oh, someone decided to talk this morning, did they?" Jim sang from the bottom of a flight of steps.

"Ba-ba! Jum!" Mycroft yelled.

"That's the closest you're getting to English for a while, kid." Jim said darkly.

"Jim, I thought you agreed to play nice today?"

"Oh, all right. Everything's ready for you in the kitchen."

"Thanks." Sebastian walked down the steps and made for the kitchen, but not before Mycroft managed to cuff one of Jim's ears. Mycroft laughed as Jim turned red and stalked off.

"You shouldn't have done that, Mycroft."

"Why?"

"Because it makes Jim mad."

"Why?"

"I'm not doing this with you, okay?"

"…Maka paka…"

"Right, Myc. Maka paka. Though I have no idea what that means."

"Fu?"

"Food? Yeah, gimme a minute, then you can have breakfast."

"Yay," Mycroft whispered as they headed into the kitchen.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Wow~! Chapter 5 and already 7 reviews?! At this rate I could have 50 reviews by around chapter 17! Cool.**

**SH Ships Sherlock- You'll find out what 'Maka paka' means in a later chapter, provided I don't change anything. This time...Sherlock shows some interesting things about his sentimental side, a quick sneak peek for your vocalised interest.**

**fezwearingjellybananas- Thanks, and it's good to know that other people have the same issues as me as a writer, I just had so many people looking over my shoulder at my work today, and I felt like, "Geez! It's not ready yet!" But I have some of the more you're looking for! (Rhyme partially intended!)**

**The little Shireling- Awww! Thank you! I love the reviews you give me, even if you're saying you want more in a sentence or four, because it tells me I'm doing my job right! As my thank-you, chapter 5!**

**And even though this is posted on April Fool's Day, all my thanks and this chapter are legit. So...here we go-o-ooooo!**

When breakfast was done, the only thing thoroughly messy was Mycroft's face. A warm cloth and fresh everything later, and the three residents were gathered in the living room, two trying to make plans that would work with the other one involved. That one in question having found a toy car in his room and proceeding to run it across any surface he could reach. "We could ship him off to Sherlock as a warning, then come after him within the week."

Mycroft's ears perked up.

"No, that's too risky. We need Sherlock to know, but we can't be stupid about it."

He looked up from his car. "Sherok?"

He was ignored. "Well, we have to do something, and soon, or else he'll become too indifferent for it to matter."

So they were trying to get to Sherlock! But why do it through him? Did they actually think Sherlock would take what happened to him as a challenge? Or even a joke? He didn't think Sherlock would give it a second thought that no one knew where he was. But trying to find him would definitely be better than staying here. He had to get them to think it was their idea, though. "See Sherok?" It was by no means perfect but it worked. Two sets of eyes were now on him. He stood up and walked somewhat shakily to the table, then pointed at a picture of that Belstaff he had learned to look for. "See 'im?"

A light switch seemed to flip on in both men's heads at the same time. "You want to see your brother?" Jim asked. Mycroft nodded. Jim got a half-smile, half-smirk on his face. "With a little luck and some co-operation on your part, we can hopefully manage that within the week."

Mycroft tried to jump and clapped. "Manowa! Allonsee!" Then he got a very solemn tone and held out his pinkie saying, "Pah-mis." Both men placed their pinkies in turn on Mycroft's, and all three started up again on the way to do the big reveal.

It took them a day and a half, but they found a plan that satisfied both parties, and was slightly creepy to boot.

* * *

It had been 73 hours since Mycroft had disappeared, and Sherlock had been up the last 25 since Mycroft had been officially announced missing. John became so concerned about the way he was taking it that he called in the Doctor to help any way he could. "Sherlock, calm down! We can get the TARDIS to do another scan for him and figure out where he is!"

"I can't calm down, Doctor! And you know if the scan didn't work the first time, it is highly unlikely it'll work this time! How can I stay calm when Mycroft's just dropped off the face of the Earth?! Just think about the things he'll be able to get away with doing to me now!" Sherlock continued in his frantic pacing across the living room.

"Sherlock…relax. He'll still be alive after a night's rest…or a day's rest, as this case happens to be." John tried to reason. Sherlock was having none of it. His pacing started to wear a hole in the rug before finally, his phone rang. "WHAT? This had better be important, Lestrade!" he growled. His face changed as the seconds wore on, and after a quick, "I'll be right there," he hung up, grabbed his coat and dashed out the door.

"They must have found a clue about where Mycroft is down at the Yard, Doctor. Come on!" John and the Doctor rushed out after Sherlock, just catching the taxi Sherlock had hailed. As soon as they stopped, Sherlock flung himself out of the cab and ran into the building, dashing up the steps and skidding to a halt just inside Lestrade's office. "Did you really just run up all those flights of steps to get here?" he asked incredulously.

"Elevator…too…slow," Sherlock gasped. "Where's…where…"

"Slow down, Sherlock. Mycroft is fine; the evidence he had is fine, just calm down, all right? You need to know the story of how he wound up here first."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Aw, I can't stop thinking about how cute lil' Myc is. *squeeee* (Okay, stay calm, you calm fangirl about this after you've done the AN. Okay? Okay.)**

**SH Ships Sherlock- Sometimes Mycroft speaks and it resembles real words, other times it's just babbling, and manowa falls into the latter category. Mycroft acts a little younger soon, so that happens. Now I just really have to write more chapters in my binder so I can get them website-ready soon.**

**But since I do have a few chapters left to spare, soooooo...in the words of lil' Myc: "Allonsee!"**

Mycroft walked through the front doors of NSY very nervously. He knew what he had to do: get in, get to Lestrade and have him call Sherlock, then he could send the warning about Sebastian and Jim. But it's a lot easier to say that when you're standing in an alley across the street watching people go in and out rather than actually doing it. A receptionist saw him and walked over. Her nametag said to call her Lucy. "Are you all right, honey? Are you lost?"

Mycroft just stared back up at her. He couldn't talk and even if he did, he wouldn't know what to say. "What's your name, sweetie?"

He fiddled with the corner of his jacket. Couldn't she see he was too young to talk? "What's this?" she murmured, pulling the corner back to show the contacts tag. So that's what he was supposed to do, then. It was so much easier to tune Jim out then to listen; he must have missed that part of the plan. Lucy read the tag and her eyes widened. She walked over to the receptionist desk and made a call, then walked back over to Mycroft. "Okay, uh, Mycroft. Let's go upstairs. We have good people up there who can help find your mum and dad, or at least a sibling who can then contact your parents."

"Muhmachu! Badapapa?" Mycroft tilted his head to the side not unlike a puppy would when it's confused.

"Right. Up you go." She grunted, and lifted Mycroft up with some difficulty. She walked over to the elevator and hit the button she needed. When the doors opened a couple of floors later, Greg was there to take Mycroft from her. "Thank you for letting me know, Lucy. I can take him from here."

Greg took Mycroft and the elevator doors closed. He carried Mycroft into his office and closed the door for privacy; then set Mycroft in front of him. "Mycroft, if there's anything left of you in there, if that really is you, then please, please tell me now."

Mycroft scowled hard and managed with some difficulty to say, "Gur-e-guh," and pat his shoulder so he clarified just who he was talking about.

Greg smiled slightly but soon sobered up. "Right then, what did you show Lucy to get to me so fast?"

Mycroft ripped his jacket off with some difficulty and let it drop to the floor in a huff. He kicked the corner with the contact information tag sewn onto it. Greg read the tag, looked up at Mycroft incredulously, then looked back down at the tag. "I guess we'd better call Sherlock in, then, huh?"

Sgt. Donovan opened the door and poked her head in. "Sir, what are you doing with that little boy? You…He's not yours, is he?"

Lestrade looked over at her. "No, he's not mine. He…ah…Moriarty…kidnapped him, and apparently let him go to send some kind of message. So he got sent up to me."

Her eyes softened. "I can keep an eye on him for you, if you want…But I have one question. Since this is probably a message to the Freak for his attention, why target some random kid on the street? I mean, a kid in an investigation, sure. But a random kid on the street?"

Lestrade just shook his head, either to correct her or try to show confusion, but either way she let it drop. "What's his name?" Sally asked.

"His coat says-get this-Mycroft Holmes. Knowing Moriarty, it probably has some hidden meaning to it."

Sally nodded. "Or he's a relative of that self-proclaimed sociopath. Either way, I think I might call him Mikey, then."

Mycroft scowled at the nickname. "No no! Naka boca!"

Sally laughed. "That settles it. Come on, Mikey, let's find something for you to do while we find out who your guardian is and contact them."

Mycroft sent a scowl to both officers' directions, but followed Donovan out, leaving Greg to call Sherlock. "Beeeep…Beep…Sherlock, we have your brother. He got abducted by Moriarty, and he seems to have had a similar change to you and John, but he wound up-how do I put this?-younger. When can you come…? All right. Catch you soon." He hung up. _Poor Mycroft, what did he ever do to wind up like this?_ Greg picked up the coat again and reread the tag, just to make sure the hastily Sharpie'ed words were still there. _Hi, my name is Mycroft Holmes. Ask me what I know about Moriarty._


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Next chapter...with an even bigger cliff hanger than last time. Maybe even coming up to around S1 level? I dunno.**

**SH Ships Sherlock- Please don't hate me, but this chapter is even worse at the end. It's just how I write; and your comment on Lucy inspired another plot twist coming up!**

**I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry. But in this chapter, cliffhangers and feels abound.**

Sherlock stared dumbfounded at the jacket Moriarty had put Mycroft in. "There's nothing else here. It's just an ordinary jacket!"

"That's good, isn't it?" Greg asked.

"No, it's not! It means _he_ must be somewhere close by so he can watch and make sure Mycroft is doing what he wants! For all we know, he could be across the hall, gun poised to shoot someone!"

"Sherlock, if someone was trying to kill anyone here, we'd know. Everything's fine, aside from the obvious problem Mycroft has. Do you want to see him?"

Sherlock stopped in his tracks from where he had begun to pace again. "He's still here? I thought he would have tried to go someplace a little more interesting by now."

"SHEROK!" a high pitched voice from the door squealed.

Sherlock turned around just in time to be attacked into a hug by a very ginger, very happy toddler. "Sherok!" the child's brown eyes sparkled with delight. He slid down from his perch on his (now older) brother's chest until he stood on the ground trying to hop back up. Sherlock laughed. He couldn't help it. He picked Mycroft back up and hugged him close to his carefully guarded heart. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Cah no vintadj."

"It's not voluntary, either." He pulled back so he could give Mycroft the eye. "Never do that again, okay? Never." The moment was soon ruined however by the fact that a camera phone used its flash just as Sherlock was kissing the top of Mycroft's head. His head snapped up to see Donovan smiling in the doorway. She stepped back to reveal John smiling and the Doctor trying not to laugh. "Send me a copy of that, will you?" Donovan smiled and nodded. "You be good to your nephew, Freak. Don't want another psychopath to worry about."

Sherlock looked down at Mycroft after Sally left. "Nephew?"

"Ay! Commoko talalama! Husona?"

Sherlock's brow furrowed. "No, I guess not," he muttered under his breath.

"He asked you if you had any better ideas." The Doctor supplied.

"How do you know that?" John asked.

"I speak baby," he said.

"No you don't," Sherlock scoffed.

"I speak everything."

"Hey, what's Mycroft holding?" John asked, noticing he had pulled something out of his pocket. Mycroft tried to hide it again, but Sherlock was too quick and had grabbed it as soon as Mycroft's grip loosened slightly. Sherlock looked at it and said nothing for a long time. Finally, he deadpanned, "So that's where it went. I'd been wondering," and handed the piece of his scarf back to Mycroft. He took it gratefully and absent-mindedly fingered the frayed edges. "What was it?" John asked.

"A piece of fabric. I thought you would be able to see that."

"No, I mean where's it from?"

"A while back, some of my clothing went missing. That," he nodded at Mycroft's hand, "Is a piece of it."

"So, did Moriarty take it and give it to Mycroft as a clue?"

"Maybe, but I doubt it."

"Why?"

"Stealing clothing just doesn't seem like something you can tie to anything else." He shifted Mycroft higher up on his side. Greg chuckled. "Sorry, you just look so natural doing that, like it's nothing new and you do it all the time."

Sherlock stared at him blankly. John cleared his throat. "Can we take him back home or does he have to stay here?"

Greg looked over surprised. "Sorry, didn't I say? I called you in so he could have a proper place to stay! We can't keep him here-too many people desperate enough to use him to escape."

"Right, I just thought…he'd sort of be like…evidence, or something," he finished lamely.

"If we need anything here, we'll phone you. But we just don't have the man power to look after him 24-7 and still do our jobs at the same time."

"So, we can just go?"

"Yeah, I guess since he wasn't even officially ever here."

At that Sherlock said a terse, "Thanks," and headed out, Mycroft waving one of his little hands in good-bye. Sherlock hailed a taxi, knowing John and the Doctor wouldn't catch it, he needed some alone time with Mycroft. After some time in silence, Mycroft muttered, "You nekst," and tried to bury himself in Sherlock's coat.

Sherlock fished him out and said, "Maybe, but until then I won't let anything else happen to you."

Mycroft looked up incredulously. Couldn't he tell he was warning him, not worrying about what would happen to him afterwards? "Sherok…" he started, but Sherlock hushed him. "Warning or no warning, we both said what needed to be said." He paid the driver and carried Mycroft out onto Baker Street, almost running straight into…Moriarty. "Hello, Sherlock," he grinned like he was a skull with nothing on the bones. "Give me the boy."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: A chapter to ease your minds...with a *I'm pretty sure* non-cliffhanger ending! Those don't happen too often, so relish it.**

**kathaka9- Here you go! Cuteness and some interesting exchanges in this chapter!**

**The little Shireling- Yay! Squee-ing my thank yous to your review! And you don't have to wait to see what happens to Sherlock and Mycroft much longer!**

**fezwearingjellybananas- Eeeee! Thank you! And for future reference, I consider Mycroft the little brother during all this, so you don't have to figure out which to use and get a headache. And thank you so much! I'm glad the sequel lives up to the first story!**

**SH Ships Sherlock- I'm glad we have a mutual understanding about cliffhangers. And John sayings? I wasn't aware I was using those, but I try to incorporate references from the shows into my fics, so if you find them, great, if you find an unintentional one, you get virtual cookies!**

**So...yep!**

"No." Sherlock stated.

"I don't think you understand, Sherlock. It's not a matter of whether you _want_ to or not, you are handing over your little brother there." Moriarty scowled. "I'd hate for something to happen to him." Moran stepped out of the shadows, gun in hand.

Sherlock held Mycroft tighter. Mycroft whimpered, "Ba ba! No!" he hid in the crook of Sherlock's elbow.

"Little sneak! Nobody tricks me and gets away with it!" Jim hissed, face turning red, "So your co-operation was just a ruse to get to Sherlock, hm? Well, he won't be able to protect you any longer!"

Mycroft started to silently cry. "Shut up!" Sherlock roared. He was just about to see red. But before anyone could react, Sebastian lifted his gun and shot Sherlock. He dropped Mycroft on instinct, and the boy ran off to try to find safety. Sherlock looked down and saw a dart sticking out of his Belstaff. He stumbled back, almost falling into the street. Then, he did the only thing that would come to his mind: he ran after Mycroft to make sure he was okay.

He ran in the direction he thought he saw Mycroft take until his lungs burned for air and he was too dizzy from the formula in his system to take another step. He leaned against the back of a building, panting heavily. He thought he saw Mycroft behind a trash can, and glided down to his knees. "My…croft," he panted. The boy crawled onto Sherlock's lap. He loosened Sherlock's scarf and grabbed his hand, squeezing as he did so. "'S wha'ppened to you?" he slurred.

Mycroft nodded. "Sorry…I wasn't good as…a big brother." Sherlock laughed. Mycroft hugged him to show forgiveness. "'S nosee."

"You can say that again…" Sherlock muttered as he drifted off. Mycroft heard running, and he grabbed Sherlock's scarf and moved next to his brother, wanting to make sure he wouldn't be uncomfortable. Jim dashed up but he didn't dare move from Sherlock's side until he saw his brother had stopped shrinking, and then he turned to Jim, the look in his eyes saying _if you hurt him, you'll pay._ Jim just rolled his eyes and picked him up, signaling for Sebastian to pick up Sherlock, making Sherlock's coat like a sack. They took a few back roads, but made it to the old safe house in just under 20 minutes. The brothers Holmes were carried into the playroom, where Jim made Sebastian drop Sherlock into the crib, coat and all. Mycroft bit Jim's hand as a retaliation, and wound up dropping onto the hard foam play mat floor. The door closed, Sebastian muttering he'd bandage up Jim's hand, and Sherlock started trying to wriggle his way out of his coat. He poked his face out to see Mycroft staring back at him. They didn't need to talk to know they were thinking the same thing: _We are in such big trouble._


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: ****Such length in this chapter! Oh well, fluff and toddlers playing takes a lot of words. And the one after this is really short, so another evening out! This is becoming a habit of mine, trying to even out chapters unintentionally.**

**fezwearingjellybananas- Yeah, cliffhangers are my way of ensuring readers each chapter. But less so for this chapter, mild cliffhanger after that, then idk because I haven't written that far yet, and typed less than one chapter after this one.**

**SH Ships Sherlock- Ooh, I'm not the only one who randomly quotes! Wouldn't it be cool if we had a community on this site where you could only talk in quotes from certain shows? Maybe I should see if we can start that...but for now, we have a chapter that needs reading!**

**...And a discovery on what 'maka paka' means!**

It could have been 15 minutes or it could have been 50 before Sebastian came back with clothes Sherlock's size. Once changed, he let Sherlock down outside the crib and said, "You two can't hurt yourselves or each other, or one of you will have to stay in the crib, okay? Behave, and you two can play together. I'll be downstairs if you need me," and he closed and locked the door.

Sherlock walked over and examined it. He tried to reach for the door handle, unsuccessfully. He turned to Mycroft. Mycroft just said, "No."

"Yeah."

"No."

"Yeah!"

"No!"

"…Why?"

Mycroft shook his head. Sherlock crossed his arms and scowled. Mycroft broke Sherlock's gaze and fiddled with his scarf. Sherlock walked over and took it back. After a period of uncomfortable silence, Sherlock managed to say, "Ya no da code…?"

Mycroft rolled his eyes and said something that was almost-but most people considered not-English: "No, duh."

Sherlock snickered. "Je no tot usay." _I never thought you'd say that._

Mycroft smirked and said, "Icode, isay." _If I can create this code, I can say that._

Then it was Sherlock's turn to say, "No, duh."

"Naheh tu." _I'm not helping you._

"Pwee? La kare do no?" _Please? Not even in bringing a chair to the door?_

"…Maka paka." Mycroft sighed. _…Okay._

They moved a chair to the door, but even standing on the backing, Sherlock couldn't reach it. He climbed down and sulked cross-legged at the door, as if that would make it open. Mycroft, however, moved on and soon found his toy car among the bottom shelves again. He ran it backward for a change, and heard a few clicks. He picked it up off the shelf to have the wheels rev up in his face. He let out a cry and dropped it, then hesitated and picked it up again. He pushed back the wheels, and watched them rush forward. "Sawin akar." Sherlock muttered. _It's a wind-up car._

Mycroft ignored him and pulled it back across the play-mat surface of the floor. It revved off and rammed into Sherlock's side. Sherlock's body rippled with irritation like a stone had skipped across the water in a stream. Mycroft tried not to laugh. He always did feel more like pranks when he was younger.

He saw another car, and pulled it back. It didn't click and it didn't roll forward. He tried another, and he systematically determined all but two of the ten-ish cars he tried weren't wind up cars. The second one he found wound up rammed into Sherlock again. Sherlock turned and glared. Mycroft feigned innocence. "Dey 'ast." _They're fast._

Sherlock seemed to accept this and picked up the two cars that hit him, rolling them back, then went to find something he found more interesting than sulking, settling on some blocks he found in a corner. He built the base of a tower before he felt another nudge from the cars. He chose to ignore it. Then another hit his thigh and a third rammed into his foot. He turned barely containing a growl to see Mycroft failing to keep a straight face. Sherlock felt his face heat in anger and Mycroft burst out laughing. Sherlock chucked the nearest car at Mycroft's face, and it connected right between Mycroft's eyes. Time seemed to stop as he sat there stunned, covering his nose, and a tear slid down his cheek against his will. He felt like he couldn't breathe, even though the logic he still had told him he would have to soon. He tried and it came in shakily and out with a small whimper. "Ow…" he muttered.

Sherlock froze. He didn't think he would actually hit Mycroft, let alone hurt him, and now they were both going to get in trouble because of what was supposed to be an empty threat. Mycroft was whimpering almost constantly; he would be crying loud enough for anyone in the house to hear soon. Thinking fast, Sherlock set two triangle blocks next to each other and made sure Mycroft was looking when he rolled a car back and made it fly off the ramp.

Mycroft sniffed, but he didn't start crying. Sherlock put a block past the ramp, while Mycroft looked on with rapt attention. Sherlock revved up the car and it jumped over the block. Mycroft let out a strangled choke that should have sounded like a laugh or a sob, but sounded like something in between. Sherlock added another block and let the last car jump. Mycroft's laugh sounded a little more like a laugh again, but he still looked like he might cry when the door opened and Jim walked in. Sherlock kept his eyes downcast, and Mycroft closed off as soon as he saw who it was. "Did one of you get hurt?" Jim asked. "Could you have fallen off your little chair while trying to open the door?" he toyed with the boys as he returned the chair to the table. He was met with silence. The cheer leaving his voice, Jim put an over-exaggerated frown on his face. "I'm going to need an answer; I know one of you got hurt." He knew who was hurt and what he was going to do already, of course, but he needed to see just how far he could go with his new-found power.

Sherlock pointed to Mycroft, not looking up from his blocks. Jim kneeled down and examined Mycroft. The boy tried to scowl, but only wound up showing how hurt he really was. Jim noticed a red mark forming on the bridge of Mycroft's nose, and when he touched it, Mycroft let out a small yelp. Jim eyed Sherlock, and Sherlock started to squirm. With that, the boys basically just admitted to everything that had happened in the last 15 minutes. He picked up Mycroft, put him in the crib, and scolded, "You can have your brother back when you learn to play with him nicely."

When he left, Sherlock tried to apologize, but Mycroft just tuned him out and hid under the Belstaff-turned-blanket in the crib, and silently cried until his body let him just sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Guys, I'm so so sorry for making you wait over a week and leaving you with another awful cliff-hanger. Even though it's Spring Break, I just couldn't get in the mood to type and had to force myself today because I didn't want you to wait any longer.**

**SH Ships Sherlock- I started up a forum, and have been trying to figure out a few things, but it's up and running. (Search "A Conversation of Quotes" if you can't find it anywhere else.) And I'm glad you have tons of cute feels. I reread these when I'm in a funk because I still get new waves of cute feels every time!**

**pinky5907- Hooray for being cute, right? I completely get it and feeling like that's all you can say. Even short reviews make me feel fuzzy!**

The Doctor walked into the living room of 221B, only to find it completely devoid of humans. He checked closer, still finding no one. "John?" he called. John walked in, noticing immediately something was wrong. "It's way too quiet. Where're Sherlock and Mycroft?"

The Doctor shook his head. "I…I don't know."

"Did something go wrong, maybe?" The gears in John's head began to turn. After Sherlock left, Greg said something about Moriarty. Moriarty also knew about Sherlock and John turning into kids a little more than a month ago…

John cut the Doctor off in the middle of a sentence about something he called "Lazarus Laboratories" saying, "I think I know what happened." He explained his theory to the Doctor, and the Doctor nodded. "Makes sense," he said.

"So what do we do now?" John asked. The Doctor stared into space.

"I!...I have no idea."

"Right."

"Do you have an idea?"

"If I did, I wouldn't have asked, right?"

"…Mm-hm." The Doctor looked at him skeptically.

"…Okay, okay! I have a plan, but it's totally insane."

"Sounds like my kind of plan, then."

"Do you have any of that formula left?"

"Yeah…you want one of us to be bait?"

"Not exactly. We both get young enough to be around Mycroft's age, and let Moriarty know, somehow. Then, all four of us can come up with a plan to beat Moriarty together."

"Okay, but there's a snag. Because I'm not human and it wasn't designed for me, the formula might change my body, but not my mind."

John shook his head. "Even better. Then we'll have at least one person who can remember why we tried a plan this stupid in the first place."

The Doctor soon had 2 syringes full of formula, figuring that might make them a little younger than last time. John signaled for him to start yelling, figuring any surveillance would notice that immediately. "WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" the Doctor roared.

John jumped. As a grown man, that made him want to wet his pants. "N-no, you don't understand…" the fight may have been faked, but John's stammer was real. He'd calm down soon enough, though, so he hoped the Doctor was ready.

"No, I _don't_ understand! How can you accuse me of helping to hurt those two, especially considering they're-! You'll pay for that insult, you tin solider!"

John grew eerily calm. "What did you just call me?"

"You heard me!"

John smiled his smile that said _I will murder you with THIS thumb, _and rushed at the Doctor. As planned, John left his leg open for attack, and the Doctor was pushing in the syringe plunger before John could throw a punch. John retaliated by stabbing the Doctor in the back-literally. They continued to scuffle until they collapsed. "Do you think we fooled them?" John whispered.

"It better have, or else we'll be in trouble."

The two men passed out, and 3 blocks away a woman smiled at a live video feed on her computer. _Stupid humans, _she thought. She dialed a special "emergencies-only" number on her phone. "I've got two more for you, going in to collect now."

"Good. Sherly and Mikey could use some company." Jim laughed. "I'll see you in 17."

"All right." She smiled as she hung up. She took off her coat as she walked out, throwing it into the back of her car next to a distinct-looking umbrella and a security pass reading "Jane Smith." A name tag jingled on her coat, one word that Mycroft had noticed earlier that day and everyone at NSY knew her by, but was just another alias. It held her favorite alias she used on Earth: Lucy.

**I'm sorry.**

**I'm so, so sorry.**

**P.S. Shout out to anyone who can catch the Ratatouille reference and name me it!**


	11. Chapter 11 (Not Exactly)

**To All of My Wonderful Fans,**

**I am sorry if you were expecting an update to only find this. I'm not stopping the story, if you're worried about this letter saying that. I'm just putting it on a back-burner for now. I've been trying to write chapter 12 for a while, but the words aren't coming quite like they should, and that's a problem since I know I have all of you waiting for an update that might not come for a while. I just wanted to let you guys know if I'm not updating, I'm taking a break from the idea, letting some other ideas take a vague shape, and set those aside for later so I can have a clearer head when I write. I hope you guys understand that I don't want this to happen, but just so the story doesn't get worse and worse, I need to set it aside for a moment. Before I go, I suppose I should do like I normally do:**

**fezwearingjellybananas- Yeah, a cliffhanger and then a hiatus. I feel so _wonderful _(sorry about the sarcasm) at the moment for leaving you guys like this. I'm glad you love the story, please continue to love it as I take a well-needed break.**

**I feel so bad leaving you guys like this. I will be back, I just need to sit back, take a break, and let the story take form without time forcing it.**

**~shnuffeluv**

**(Oh, and don't worry about the guys. They'll be fine, relatively speaking, in the next chapter.)**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hey, guys. I'm bringing you one more chapter because you've waited two weeks. But since I started the hiatus, I've received 3 big projects for different classes, warnings for a bunch of tests, and of course finals are coming up in about a month, so who knows when I'll be able to update again. I'm not sure if I should really be updating _now_, to be honest. But I couldn't bear to let you guys wait, and I've written a few more chapters, if not typed them up. So, life came up, but I'm pushing back as hard as I can for some peace and insanity (I say that because a Wholockian can't really fight for sanity, not now.)**

**SH Ships Sherlock- Thanks for understanding about needing the break! I wish more people would visit our forum too, I'm trying to fix that, but my brother will either get really into it, or read it for a week and not come back for a few months. *fingers crossed***

**fezwearingjellybananas- Yeah, I guess that's true, isn't it? Just say he was rescued by TARDIS. That's what Anderson thinks, and I've really started to gain respect for the guy. Anybody that hardcore fanboy deserves some street credit.**

**AngryHobbit- *blushes* Thank you! I hope you continue to enjoy the story when I can remember to update!**

Mycroft woke up to the smell of Sherlock, and couldn't quite put his finger on why. He smelled slight must, sweat, deodorant, and taxicabs. He sat up and realized he was still underneath Sherlock's Belstaff. He pulled it off him and checked for Sherlock. He was idly stacking wooden blocks with a blond boy, and a brunette wearing a bowtie looked up from his puzzle right at Mycroft and smiled. He nudged the other two boys and they looked eagerly from their blocks to see what was up. Mycroft stood up and grabbed the bars of the crib. He heaved, and the sides moved up on the runners just enough for Mycroft to squeeze through and slide to the floor. He walked over to the others, making the confusion plain on his face. "Um…Who ah yu?" he asked the blond and brunette.

Sherlock laughed. "_Mycroft, it's John and the Doctor!"_

Mycroft blinked in surprise at hearing Sherlock speaking English perfectly. The Doctor slid a bracelet over Mycroft's wrist. "_This is a piece of the TARDIS Core, programmed to translate what you and others say into each person's respective native language. You, Sherlock, John, and I are the only ones who have been programmed in to have it translate for (and the only ones who have them.)_"

"_Say anything,_"John tested.

"_Anything._"

John snickered. Sherlock punched Mycroft lightly. The Doctor offered up the puzzle he was working on before to Mycroft to work on. He let Mycroft get to work finishing the border while he went to find another one. He murmured to Sherlock, "_Mycroft is definitely worse for wear from this._"

Sherlock nodded and stepped onto the first shelf above the ground, searching for something more interesting higher up. "_But what can we do? As of right now, we can't even escape._"

"_We have to come up with something._"

Sherlock brought down another box of blocks with the word _Jenga_ written on its side. "_And soon,_" he agreed.

"_If you two are going to plot my fate behind my back, would you at least talk so that I can't hear you?_" Mycroft sighed.

John laughed. "_You two are the worst co-conspirators ever._"

A click indicating a door being unlocked sounded and everyone fell silent. The door opened and in walked…the receptionist from NSY? "Hello, boys. Remember me?"

Silence.

"Mycroft, we only met like this for a minute. You may remember me more like this…" she pulled off what turned out to be a very realistic wig to show her natural hair falling to her shoulders underneath.

Mycroft's eyes widened. It was Jane! She had been working with Moriarty the whole time?! "Why…?" he asked, hating how his voice trembled.

She laughed the laugh he always heard drifting from the break room, the laugh he would work his hardest to make on the hardest of days because he loved the way it sounded. Only now it was harsher, tinted with malice. "You wouldn't understand, being a child of your age."

"_Back off!_" Sherlock cried, indignant. Jane just patted his head and gently forced him to back up. "Whatever you want, it can wait. Your brother and I are having a little chat."

Jane turned around to find Mycroft had adopted an expression of confusion and pleading on his face, as if begging someone to explain a joke everyone else understood he had trouble grasping. Jane looked at him and sighed. "You wouldn't understand, Mycroft. I'm not reopening old wounds if it falls on deaf ears."

Mycroft scowled and crossed his arms, the silent equivalent of _try me._

"Fine then. I had an older brother who applied for a certain job on this planet a few years back to earn a living. He was very smart-some would go so far as to call him brilliant-but he was denied the job because they already 'had someone of his caliber' working for them. That person was you. They argued you had the same skill set, and had proved yourself time and time again, so you were all they really needed and it didn't seem reasonable to have two people when one would do." Her irises seemed to go red with anger as she said, "My brother was crushed, and fled back to our home planet; I however stayed behind to avenge his pride. And now, with you out of the way, there's nothing stopping me from taking over where you left off and reaping my revenge on this planet!" Her eyes had definitely turned red during this speech. Mycroft stumbled backward, but Jane was too fast and grabbed him. She whispered in his ear, "And soon you'll be nothing but a sniveling kid again while I take Easy Street to victory." She let go, stood up, and walked out.

"_Geez, anger management issues,_" the Doctor muttered.

"_You can say that again,_" John replied.

"_Twice._" Sherlock added.

Mycroft sat down and spat, "_I hate being a toddler._"

"_Why's that?_" John asked.

Sherlock smirked. "_If my deduction skills haven't been affected yet, I believe that lady-whoever she was-may have just made Mycroft wet himself._"

Mycroft turned beet red as John squealed and wrinkled his nose. Sherlock rolled his eyes and went to shaking the cabinet with the baby monitor on it. The Doctor caught it as it fell off and walked over to Mycroft. "_I can get someone's attention if you want fresh clothes._"

Mycroft looked at him sideways. "_I guess…but only if you promise not to make fun of me-or bring this up again, really-ever._"

"_Cover your ears._" The Doctor screamed at the top of his lungs as long as he could right into the speaker of the baby monitor. Sebastian opened the door moments later to a surprised Mycroft falling backwards while trying to catch himself and cover his ears at the same time. He picked the boy up and closed the door behind him. "That should help the noise," he said. "Now, if I smell what I think I might smell, I'm going to be getting you some fresh clothes, okay?"

Mycroft nodded, and Sebastian carried him off, as the both of them were wondering if their lives could get any weirder.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I'm back to writing/typing chapters sporadically! Go me! Next week & the week after and then finals, so I should be getting more free time in 3 weeks! But for now, you guys deserve to know what happens.**

**pinky5907- As much as I love Mycroft as a character, I also love to torture him, so I added that in there. Plus, I mean, it had to happen sometime, right? ;)**

**AngryHobbit- Hope this is soon enough! Geez, I really should be researching as I do this. I guess I'll never learn, huh?**

**Akayuki Sawada- Yes! Someone finally got the quote! I think John would have made a good abrasive character in Ratatouille, maybe even a better one.**

**SH Ships Sherlock- As always, thank you for the kind review! Lucy makes 1-2 more appearances and several references by what I have planned for this now. I hope you do well on your tests, I'm not sure I'll do great on mine. Unless they ask me to write a story like this. Then that is a different matter.**

**And look! I did actually update before school let out! I have a stronger grip on sanity then I first thought!**

Sebastian had carried Mycroft downstairs after he was changed and into a living room where Jim was waiting. "He's past phase 1?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"You tell me. But he is showing signs beyond purely emotional."

Jim noticed some baby powder between Sebastian's fingers and smiled. "Bring him here, then."

Sebastian placed Mycroft on the couch then left him alone in the room with Jim. He squirmed and fiddled with his hands, as Jim examined every inch of him. Finally he lifted Mycroft up and put him down facing Jim on his lap. "Can you keep a secret?" he asked in a low voice. "Jane is all talk. She can yell at you and threaten you with weapons made from Jupiter, but as far as hurting you goes, nothing happens."

Mycroft hummed that he understood and tried to shift backwards, feeling uncomfortable this close to the man who may have held his life in his hands.

"I know you want to get down, but listen for one more minute, will you?" He leaned down close and whispered in Mycroft's ear. "I know you feel confused, and scared, and maybe even a little angry; but if you don't try to resist the changes, you won't even realize they're happening. And, if you change your mind about not wanting to associate with me, I'd be willing to keep you, with Sebastian making frequent visits instead of having to give you to one of the people in my web. It's nothing more than a fresh start. Haven't you ever wanted that? A fresh start?"

Mycroft stared at Jim strangely. He couldn't really decide on what to make of Jim's statement. "We've just about finished making this place safe for you guys, if you want to walk around and think about it?"

Mycroft nodded and walked out of the room relieved to explore the place he might soon be calling home. He took a better look at the kitchen, discovered that this place had a basement, and headed upstairs for the biggest surprise of all: they had a practically floor-to-ceiling library! He took a closer look at the titles excitedly. There was everything in fiction from Peter and the Starcatchers to Floors to the complete collection of Winnie the Pooh books (he figured he wouldn't ask Jim why he had those,) and in non-fiction things like the basics of lock-picking to biographies on the greatest criminals of all time. Clearly, everyone here read to escape reality or to research a job opportunity. He glanced over the shelves and found a book he loved as a kid, and grabbed it. He sat against the shelf and started to read…

* * *

A half hour after Mycroft left, Sebastian opened the door to the playroom and kept it open, saying they had finished "child-proofing" the house. The three boys in the room ran out, but then stopped when they realized they had no idea where to go next. "_Ooh, we really didn't think about this next bit, did we?_" the Doctor muttered, "_I didn't start running around the universe until I was 90, so I'm not exactly ready for anything long-distance._"

"_I'm not to be trusted around stairs like this, clear?_" John said.

"_Well then, let's start small,_" Sherlock said. "_Let's check that room down the hall._"

They walked in and froze. They had to. This was easily the biggest library any of them had been in for quite a while. And up against one of the shelves in a corner was…"_Mycroft?_"

The boy glanced up when he heard his name but continued reading. Sherlock walked over to get a look at the title that had so enraptured his brother. "_King Arthur__? Why'd you be reading __King Arthur__?_"

"_Does it surprise you that I have legitimate interests outside my work?_" Mycroft asked coldly.

"_Yeah, actually._"

"_Girls, please, not here,_" John tried to break up the impending fight.

"_Not everyone has as little a life as you do, Sherlock_."

"_The day you ever stop talking to me couldn't come too soon,_" Sherlock snarled.

"_Well, soon you might just get that wish granted!_" Mycroft hissed.

"_Why, what are you going to do? Run away?_"

"_I'm not going to do anything,_" Mycroft said, enjoying how Sherlock was listening to every word he said, "_If Moriarty goes through with his plan on adopting one of us!_"


End file.
